Nocturne
by MMB
Summary: A chance encounter with a stranger leads in interesting directions.


Title: Nocturne  
Author: MMB  
Rating - PG  
Spoilers - none  
Timeline - sometime after IOTH  
Keywords - SOR  
Summary - a chance encounter with a stranger leads in interesting directions  
Disclaimer - They aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. Please don't kill me...  
  
  
Nocturne  
by MMB  
  
It was eight o'clock in the evening, Sydney's favorite time of day at the Centre. Most of the day to day hustle and bustle had long since died down, certainly all the psychological experiments he was involved in had been shelved until morning or the effort to hunt for Jarod had taken a necessary pause to let the hunters rest. In this quiet after-hours time, he knew he was generally free to kick back at his desk and pull out his latest murder mystery and read to unwind before heading home. It was part of a routine he'd established years ago and had yet to find a good reason to alter.   
  
On this particular evening, he had decided not to close the door between his office and the Sim Lab before leaning back in his comfortable leather chair with his book. He was just nicely getting caught up in the opening paragraphs of this new mystery when he heard the automatic door swish and then the mail and document cart rumble into the Sim Lab and up to his office door. If he looked up, he knew he'd see one of the nondescript clerical staff picking up the outgoing documents from the appropriate box on his desk and dropping off his share of incoming to its box. He would have ignored the entire process as he normally did - had his nostrils not picked up the scent of soft flowers on a summer's day.   
  
He leaned forward and raised his head from his book to see who it was that would be wearing such a soft and provocative perfume. The clerical worker was the only other person in the room with him, and he realized it must be she who was wearing the scent. She was modestly dressed in a pastel blue shirt-dress and canvas flats, and she had long dark hair with two striking silver bands that began at her temples that was caught back in a braid that dangled halfway down her back. He looked up into her face and their eyes met as she reached for his outgoing documents, and he drew in a surprised breath at the quiet intelligence and restrained curiosity within her dark-eyed gaze before she dropped her head and went back to concentrating single-mindedly on her task. She didn't look back in his direction again, but gently deposited his offering to her cart in the half-full lower basket and pushed her cart out of the Sim Lab again without a single word.  
  
Sydney settled back into his comfortable chair again, the book in his hands forgotten, and allowed his thoughts free rein to wander. It had been a long time since a female co-worker at the Centre had actually caught his eye and attention. This woman was not young, but she had that grace that bordered on beauty that came to some women with middle age. She must have been new to the task of handling the mail drop because he was certain he would have noticed her had she been in or around the Sim Lab earlier. He had found himself glancing quickly at her hands as she had worked; she wore no wedding ring, which frankly surprised him. His own curiosity piqued, he wondered who she was, how long she'd been with the Centre, and why she hadn't been on the mail drop route before this.   
  
His concentration on his novel broken, and with no further wish to try to immerse himself in a new plot that evening, he slid the paperback into a drawer of his desk and headed for his jacket and beret. It HAD been a long day. He could muse just as effectively at home.  
  
Standing at the elevator, waiting for it to descend all the way from the lobby, he was astonished to hear the sound of the mail cart rumbling up behind him. He turned and found himself once more face to face with soft flowers, blue pastel and intelligent dark eyes. He smiled at her, and saw her face soften just a little bit before she looked back down shyly, he thought, at the contents of her cart.  
  
"Hello," he tried in his most approachable and friendly tone of voice.  
  
She glanced up at him, her lips curling up slightly at the edges. "Hi," she replied in a soft, and melodious contralto voice.   
  
He shifted to the side so that she could stand next to him while they waited for the elevator to arrive. He glanced down at her cart. "Looks like you have a full load tonight," he commented, wishing he could come up with something a little less lame with which to break the ice.  
  
"Yes," she agreed softly, then was silent.  
  
The elevator door whooshed open, and Sydney gallantly put up a hand to prevent it from closing too quickly so that the cart and its driver could enter first, then followed. "Where to?" he asked.  
  
"SL-2," she answered, then gave him a small smile. "Mail room."  
  
"Of course," he smiled back in return, and pushed the buttons for both SL-2 and the garage level. "Are you new here?"  
  
He was gratified to see her look back up at him. "Only to this. I've been working in clerical for a year or so now." The dark eyes regarded him with an expression neither friendly nor hostile. "And you - I remember from your outgoing. You're Doctor..."  
  
"Call me Sydney," Sydney shook his head as he interrupted. "I'm not much of one for formal titles, especially outside of a professional setting." He tipped his head in curiosity. "And you are..."  
  
"Miriam," she answered with a slight blush.  
  
"Miriam," he repeated as if testing the name on his tongue, then nodded. "It suits you."  
  
The edges of her lips curled up again slightly, and then without another word, she looked back down and into her cart self-consciously.  
  
"Is it something I said?" he asked quietly.  
  
She looked up quickly, her expression unreadable. "N...no, of course not. Its just that I was told very specifically NOT to disturb the researchers in the process of picking up mail - and I think I goofed when I came into your office. You looked like you were really concentrating on your book..."  
  
"On a work of fiction," Sydney chuckled in relief, glad to let his new acquaintance off of her self-assigned hook of guilt, "on a murder mystery novel. You didn't bother me, Miriam. I was reading to relax before leaving."  
  
The smile that spread across her face was far more free and open, clearly relieved. "Oh, I'm so glad! It was nice to get out of the secretary's pool and walk around for a change; I was so disgusted with myself for having messed up my chance to keep the mail drop job."  
  
"I'm glad I could set your mind to rest, then."  
  
At that moment, the door slid open at SL-2, and Sydney gallantly helped her ease her mail cart over the obstructive threshold between elevator car and sublevel floor. "Good evening, then," he said, tugging at the visor of his beret at her.  
  
"And to you too," she said softly with a smile, then turned to push her cart down the hall as the elevator door slid shut and shut away her view of Sydney.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Am I your last stop before heading back to the mail room?" Sydney asked her curiously as Miriam reached for the inevitable pile of outgoing mail. He had found lately that he was anticipating the eight PM hour more and more, and not just for the value of the quiet time he got to spend with his murder mysteries anymore. Indeed, Miriam arrived to pick up his outgoing at eight PM like clockwork. Several times he had managed to cautiously engage her in short, light conversations, and he had come away from the encounters inevitably wanting to know her better yet.  
  
"No, yours is the first office on this level that I visit - I have five other stops to make. But this is the last level I visit before heading back to the mail room." She smiled at him across the desk and then deposited his mail. "Why?"  
  
"No reason really," he admitted with a chagrined look on his face. "So, how do you like the mail drop job, now that you've been at it for a while?"  
  
She lowered her gaze to her mail cart and busied herself by arranging the mountain of outgoing mail into a pile that wasn't threatening to spill onto the floor. "It's a nice way of ending the day," she said finally, then looked up. "After sitting at a computer terminal and typing all day, getting up and walking six sublevels' worth of offices is a relief."  
  
"You get off work after you make your delivery?" Sydney asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.  
  
Miriam nodded gently, still without looking at him. "Speaking of which, I need to get going..." she said quietly, beginning to move her cart towards the office door.  
  
"Miriam?" She paused in her escape and turned at the sound of her name.   
  
Sydney had leaned forward, and his chestnut eyes were filled with a hesitant hope. "I was wondering if you would consider dinner with me after work some evening."  
  
She stared at him, stunned. "Me?"  
  
"Yes, you," he reassured her with an inviting smile. "I think I'd like the chance to get to know you a little better outside work."  
  
She had already started shaking her head before he'd finished his comment. "I don't think so, Sydney. I always need to get straight home and cook for my mother."  
  
"You take care of your mother?" He asked in surprise, then filed the information away as she nodded her answer. "Well, how about I pick you up after you fix her meal that evening then?" When he saw her hesitate, he pressed on, "That way your mother's schedule isn't disrupted, and you and I would still get an opportunity to dine together."  
  
"You're serious!" From her expression and tone of voice, Sydney could see clearly that the idea astounded her. He rose and came around his desk toward her.  
  
"I assure you that I'm not in the habit of asking a lady to dine when I have no intention of actually taking her to a restaurant," he smiled at her. "So, what do you say?"  
  
"I..." Miriam blushed slightly. "I think I'd enjoy that," she admitted finally. "When?"  
  
Sydney let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and relaxed into a smile. "Would tomorrow evening be too soon?"  
  
Those dark and intelligent eyes looked up into his, and the cautious happiness they contained touched him deeply. "No, tomorrow evening would be fine. It lets me give my mother fair warning."  
  
Giving in to a rare fit of impulsiveness, Sydney reached for her hand - the one closest to him - as it sat on the handle of the cart, and he bowed over it gallantly as he brought it to his lips. "Until tomorrow evening, then," he said softly.  
  
Miriam blushed again and very carefully retrieved her hand from his keeping. "Good night, Sydney," she murmured, flustered, and immediately pushed her cart through the Sim Lab door and turned down the corridor.  
  
Sydney smiled to himself and returned to his desk and the murder mystery laying face-down on his blotter, reliving the sensation of the soft hand he had held for an all too short time in his. He picked up the book and yet couldn't bring himself to immerse himself once more in the complicated story. Instead, he leaned the spine of the book against his lips as he pondered the question of which restaurant he intended to patronize the next evening.  
  
"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary, Syd," Miss Parker's voice sounded from the direction of the office door. "Wanna share?"  
  
Sydney glanced up with an enigmatic smile teasing the corners of his mouth to see the tall brunette leaning nonchalantly against his doorjamb. "You're working late this evening, Miss Parker," he observed instead of answering. "What brings you to my office at this hour?"  
  
"I'm actually on my way out at last," she said, stepping into the office at last, putting her hands forward and showing that one held her briefcase and her jacket was draped over the other. "I saw your office light on, and was thinking maybe I could get you to escort a lady to her car." Her grey eyes twinkled with restrained mischief. "Besides, you spend altogether too much time at the Centre, you know..."  
  
"Something you're aware of only because you're here at least as much as I am," he reminded her with an amused snort.  
  
"Of course," her smile was both sweet and dangerous, a dichotomy that seemed to define her nature to a "t". "And knowing how much I suffer from spending too much time here, it only stands to reason that I'd want to save one of my oldest and dearest friends from the same problem. More importantly," she commented with a sniff, "you're the only true gentleman in this whole joint, and a lady of my station shouldn't waste any opportunity to monopolize your time that comes her way."  
  
Sydney chuckled openly at her now. "You're incorrigible, you know," he chortled as he put his bookmark in the mystery to mark his place and slid the book into the drawer.  
  
"And damned proud of it," she retorted with an echoing chuckle in her own voice.   
  
"As if I hadn't noticed," he answered, finding her playful mood a delightful encore to his evening. What was more, he was very aware that such moods from her were rarities to be savored and appreciated. "You're in rather high spirits this evening," he commented, rising and heading for the coat rack. "Wanna share?"  
  
Miss Parker shifted her jacket to the other arm and then cupped a hand around her ear. "I could SWEAR there's an echo in here this evening," she shot back, then smiled at him impishly. When his eyebrows climbed his forehead once more in astonishment and he paused in the act of putting on the beret, she chuckled openly. "What's the matter, Syd?" she asked, claiming his arm with her free hand.  
  
"Are you sure you're not unwell, Parker," he asked her in a quiet and deeply amused voice as they walked together towards the elevator door. "You're having entirely too much fun to have put in a full hard day's work here..."  
  
"Actually, Syd, I've never felt more like celebrating than I do right now," she admitted, watching him punch the button. "It isn't often that I get a chance to watch Lyle get seriously dressed down by Mr. Raines."  
  
"You're kidding!"   
  
"Seems Raines had Lyle doing an independent hunt for Jarod, using 'other' resources - which turned out to be totally useless." Miss Parker's laugh this time was slightly less than kind. "Raines wasn't amused."  
  
The elevator door slid open, and the two stepped inside. "I wouldn't imagine so," Sydney chuckled, his mind painting an interesting portrait of the event as he turned to push the button for the lobby.   
  
"I never thought I'd enjoy a meeting in Raines' office so much," Miss Parker continued to laugh, and tightened her grip on Sydney's arm possessively. "I just had to share it with somebody who'd appreciate it..."  
  
Sydney glanced over at Miss Parker indulgently. He had watched her grow from a grief-stricken little girl into a beautiful and strong woman, and through the years she had become very dear to him. He cherished every spontaneously unguarded moment with her that came his way, painfully aware of both the rarity of those moments as well as the mystery of how long it would be until the next one made its unexpected appearance.   
  
He glanced up as the elevator door began closing to see Miriam just starting to head down the corridor towards the elevator. She looked up just in time to see him standing there, a gentle and loving smile on his face and a beautiful and much younger woman clinging possessively to his arm. Sydney was so startled at the development that he froze, giving the elevator door the time to slide completely shut.  
  
The look on Miriam's face in response to what she had seen had been one that caused his heart to sink despite the buoyancy Miss Parker's mood had brought him. But he quietly tucked that worry away into a hidden recess of his mind for later chafing in order not to disrupt the flow of the banter between himself and the woman on his arm.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Never had a day gone by so slowly, and never had he been so tempted to abandon his research subjects to their own devices for a time while he went up the many levels to the clerical floor to seek someone out. But Sydney rigorously schooled himself to patience and forced himself to concentrate on his research and give Miss Parker a proper professional level of psychological consultation as she brought the latest breadcrumbs from Jarod to him for interpretation. It was decided, eventually, that these latest clues were simply Jarod's way of playing with their minds - there would be no frantic jaunt to Atlanta this day. Syd breathed a sigh of relief that his evening would continue to be free to spend as he wished, and so he graciously escorted Miss Parker out of the Sim Lab to continue with his other duties.  
  
When the evening finally did roll around and the research subjects had departed, Sydney chose not to pull the murder mystery from its drawer at all, but rather to stretch back in his comfortable leather office chair and await the 8 o'clock mail run with hopeful anticipation and pleasant reminisces. He didn't regret in the least the time he'd spent with Miss Parker the previous evening; they had had a very enjoyable time together. He had allowed her to talk him into letting her treat him to a few drinks in an upscale tavern in the middle of the tiny Blue Cove business district, but he then insisted that the dinner that followed was his treat. Somehow they had managed to avoid all work-related topics, including any mention of Jarod, and so Miss Parker had continued in her unguarded and buoyant good humor for the entire evening.   
  
But still, the look on Miriam's face...  
  
He sighed in relief when he heard the swish of the automatic door of the Sim Lab and then the rumble of the mail cart approaching his office door. He was disappointed, then, after that rush of hope to see an unfamiliar and nondescript young man at the helm of the metal cart reaching out for the pile of out-going and depositing the new deliveries on his desk.  
  
"Where's Miriam tonight?" Sydney asked with a very slight frown.   
  
"She wasn't feeling well today and asked me if I would spell her on the mail-drop run tonight," the young man offered easily. "I think she was hoping to get off a little early too."  
  
Sydney rose from behind his desk quickly, snatched up his beret, jacket and briefcase and made a quick exit. He punched impatiently at the elevator button, then stewed in frustration at the time the elevator took to bring him up to the garage level. The moment the doors slid open, he pushed through and out into the dimly-lit parking facility and looked around. There was no movement, no sounds of a car engine or footsteps in the distance.  
  
Deciding to take a chance that he'd managed to beat her to the garage, he set his briefcase down on the cement and folded his jacket a little more carefully so he could drape it over his arm. He then leaned against a support pillar with a deceptively nonchalant posture and settled back to wait for a while to see what happened.  
  
He watched the elevator deliver its load three or four times before, at last, Miriam was among the small knot of tired employees heading home for the day. Not even noticing the man standing just a short distance away, her eyes searched down in the opposite direction from him to locate her car, then her gaze dropped to watch her step as she began walking slowly down toward the endless line of vehicles. Sydney frowned. She did look tired, defeated. Maybe she actually was ill.  
  
"Miriam? Wait..."  
  
She looked up, startled and astonished, then stopped. "Sydney!" Obviously, she hadn't expected to see him at all.   
  
Sydney straightened and retrieved his briefcase from the cement and made his way over to her. "I missed you on the mail run this evening. Your friend who took your place said you weren't well, and I wanted to make sure everything was alright - and maybe reschedule our dinner to an evening when you felt better." He looked at her closely. "You do look a bit pale..."  
  
"I thought..."  
  
"Yes..." He had an idea what she'd thought, but waited for her to voice it.  
  
Her eyes finally came up in almost defiant hopelessness. "I saw you yesterday evening, with that beautiful woman on your arm."  
  
"I know you did. I was hoping you'd give me a chance to tell you about her." he said gently, with a touch of wistful reproach.  
  
"Sydney," she sighed, then shook her head. "Look, you don't have to explain, you don't owe me anything. I understand. She really is very striking, and obviously has a wonderful sense of humor and personality. I can see why..."  
  
"That was Miss Parker, the Chairman's daughter," Sydney began gently, inserting his words into the small pause when Miriam took a breath. The statement made her blink and genuinely pause so that he could continue. "I've known her since she was a very small child. I was a friend of her mother's, many years ago - and at the moment, I sometimes consult on a project of hers. We are old and good friends - at best, I'm like an uncle to her."  
  
"Oh..." Miriam had the good sense to blush. "I thought..."  
  
"I know what you thought," he remarked with a soft voice. "It was written all over your face last night." He reached out his free hand and carefully took hold of one of the hands from where she had folded them across her chest protectively. "As an old friend, she came to me when she decided she had something she wanted to celebrate. Such things don't happen often for her, and its even rarer when she decides to share such things with me or anyone else." He smiled with the memory. "But just because I spent one evening with her doesn't mean that I wasn't looking forward to spending an evening with you - that I don't STILL look forward to spending an evening with you," he affirmed with feeling, "when you're feeling better, that is..."  
  
"You must think I'm acting quite foolishly," she said, looking down at her shoes in chagrin.  
  
"Actually," Sydney admitted with a smile, "I'm feeling a little complimented." That made her look back up at him with raised eyebrows. He gave a shrug that was very Belgian which made her lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile. "That's much better," he remarked. "You look much better when you're smiling, as do we all."  
  
"I'm sor..."  
  
"Ah-ah-ah," he cautioned, wagging a forefinger at her that dragged her still imprisoned hand along with it. "No apologies. Just answer me one question."  
  
Miriam's other arm had slowly uncrossed from in front of her as she'd grown used to his retaining possession of her hand, and now it slipped behind her in a shy movement. "What?" she asked softly, looking up into his face hesitantly.  
  
"When WOULD you like to have dinner?"  
  
Her eyes grew wide. "You're kidding! After my gigantic faux pas just now, are you sure you still..."  
  
Sydney shook his head in disbelief, and then sighed. He inhaled once more, gathering in a hint of her soft scent of flowers and summer sunshine. "Miriam, why is it so hard for you to believe that I really do want to take you to dinner?"   
  
"Because..." she couldn't continue, nor continue to meet his gaze.   
  
"Would you rather not?"  
  
That brought her gaze back to his face in a hurry. "NO! That's not..."  
  
"Then what?" he insisted gently. "If you're not feeling well tonight..."  
  
"I'm just afraid you're going to be disappointed," she finally said in a whisper. "You're so much more traveled and knowledgeable than I. I'm just a secretary who has been to New York City maybe twice in her life who has an invalid mother instead of a social life." She looked at him, sadness shadowing her dark eyes. "You can do better than me, Sydney. Really."  
  
"I'd like the opportunity to make that determination for myself," he countered, tightening his hand around hers. "I happen to think I won't be disappointed at all - that you're underestimating yourself desperately - and I intend to prove that to you myself, at dinner. So, if not tonight, when?"  
  
His chestnut eyes caught and held hers, and she finally could see that he wasn't going to let the matter go without a more definitive word from her. "You're a very persistent man."  
  
He smiled encouragingly at her. "And you're avoiding the question."  
  
She smiled in embarrassment. "You're right," she admitted in a once more chagrined voice. She hesitated, then looked up at him with that same hint of cautious happiness that had been behind her gaze the previous evening. "OK. If you still want to do this tonight..."  
  
"It isn't a question of what I want, anymore; and it doesn't have to be tonight," he informed her gently. "If you truly don't feel well, I don't want you to feel pressured..."  
  
"Well," she finally admitted softly, "Truth is, I made that excuse just so that you wouldn't have to tell me the dinner was off after all. I'm feeling fine - a bit foolish and adolescent, but not ill."  
  
With that, Sydney straightened and shifted his hold on her hand so that it was a gentleman's grasp on her fingers. "In that case, could I have the pleasure of your company at dinner this evening after all?"  
  
"Yes," she answered softly. "I think I'd like that." Then she blinked as a thought occurred, and she looked up at him warily. "I have to see to my mother first, though..."  
  
"I remember your telling me about that yesterday," Sydney nodded. "Look... My car's just over here. Let me drive you to yours and then follow you to your house. I'll be your chauffeur from there"  
  
"You won't mind coming in for a few minutes while I set things together for her, will you?" she asked shyly. "Knowing mother, she's going to want to know who it is I'm having dinner with after all... She knows I don't think about going out much anymore, and she saw how dis..." She saw him gazing at her indulgently. "Forget it. Will you come in?"  
  
"It would be my pleasure." He smiled more widely and bowed over her hand. "If I can finally convince you to go out to dinner with me, I think I can handle being checked out by your mother beforehand..." he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he looked back up at her.  
  
Finally, reassured, Miriam broke out an open, more relaxed and unrestrained smile, and Sydney was even more certain that this retiring and shy woman that had so inexplicably caught his attention would be well worth knowing better. At least now, at last, he would have the chance to find out.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Sydney shamelessly indulged his whim to inhale deeply of his passenger's summer flowers scent once more. Were the car not moving, he would have indulged his other whim and feasted his eyes upon the beautiful woman at his side. Patience, he schooled himself mentally; you can look your fill at the restaurant, so for now, keep your eyes on the road.   
  
It had taken Miriam but a half-hour or so for her to prepare her mother's meal and set the old woman up for herself for the evening. She had then disappeared into the back regions of the apartment to change into a less severe but obviously more formal pantsuit. She then unbraided and brushed out her hair and caught the curls back from her face with long but dainty silver combs that held them tumbling in wild abandon down the back.   
  
During this time, Sydney was reminded of just how a callow youth felt when obliged to cool his heels and wait upon the final preparations of his sweet young date. It didn't help that Miriam's mother, Sarah, had been a gracious silver-haired lady who retained a keen and penetrating mind and obvious interest in her daughter's new companion despite being confined to a wheelchair. She had rescued him from simply sitting on a modest couch with his hands in his lap feeling useless, however, by pointedly engaging him in light conversation about current events on the local scene - topics chosen carefully to avoid any potential points of dissent between strangers thrown together by circumstances.   
  
During the inevitable lulls in that conversation, Sydney had a chance to look about the apartment with interest. Photographs of what must have been other family members sat on or hung over matched bookcases filled with a set of encyclopaedia and other hardbound books. In a corner was an upright piano upon which a sheet of fairly complicated-looking sheet music sat as if just waiting for the musician of the house to sit down and start playing again.  
  
"That's Miriam's baby," Sarah had commented proudly when she saw the man sitting patiently in her living room waiting on her daughter give the piano a second glance. "She's played ever since she was a child, and spends hours at it now that she's here taking care of me. She's really very good. I think she might have gone into music as a career if... if things hadn't worked out differently for her."  
  
Sydney would have pursued a line of polite questions regarding his intended date, except that at that moment, Miriam had emerged from the kitchen drying her hands on a towel and announcing that her mother's dinner was served and that they could now leave. Sydney had risen and bowed graciously over Sarah's offered hand. "It was very nice to have met you," he had told the old woman in his most polite tone.  
  
"Thank you for being so kind as to keep an old woman company for a short while," Sarah had responded with a knowing sparkle in her eye. "You will take good care of my Miriam for me, won't you?"  
  
Miriam had looked down and blushed, and Sydney had smiled at the sight and turned back to the old woman. "It will be my pleasure to do so."   
  
"Have fun, you two, then," Sarah had said finally with a wave and, taking the wheels of her chair in obviously practiced hands, had headed off for the kitchen table where her meal awaited her while Sydney and Miriam took their leave.   
  
"Thank you for being so patient with me, and for being kind to Mom," Miriam commented softly, as if feeling the attention of her companion on her despite his pointedly keeping his eyes conservatively on the road.  
  
"Your mother is a very interesting and intelligent woman," Sydney responded, glad to see her reticence at starting conversations had subsided as the surroundings had become more informal. "We had an interesting conversation while you were busy."  
  
"I'm sorry if I took too long..."  
  
Glancing over at her, Sydney stretched out his right hand and claimed her left. "Stop worrying so much. I enjoyed talking to your mother. She told me, for example, that the piano in the corner was yours - that you play well."  
  
"She's biased," Miriam replied quickly. "She has to listen to me when I play - she knows that if she gives me too bad a time, I start playing Bach inventions. She HATES those..." She looked over at Sydney and smiled shyly.   
  
"She commented that you might have gone into music for your living."  
  
"Well, we all know how the dreams of youth and the reality of adult life rarely resemble each other," Miriam stated cryptically, and gently reclaimed possession of her hand.   
  
"I didn't mean to bring up unpleasantries," he responded quickly and apologetically. "I'm sorry if I was getting too personal..."  
  
"No, its OK," Miriam sighed. "She's right - and my life is an open book. There WAS a time I was thinking about going to Julliard. Things didn't work out so that I could do that, however. I got pregnant right out of high school, and there was never enough money for me to continue my education at all after my daughter was born."  
  
"How old is your daughter now?" Sydney asked, moving to a safer topic. He thought.  
  
"She died when she was twelve," she answered very softly. "There was a car accident, she was thrown clear and died instantly."  
  
"Mon Dieu! I'm so sorry - I seem to be hitting all the wrong buttons tonight, don't I?"   
  
Miriam looked over at her companion and saw his glance of concern and smiled sadly at him. "I told you that you could do better than me," she reminded him with a wistful note.   
  
"Uh-unh," he shook his head at her. "We all have tragedies in our backgrounds; its just that for some of us, the tragedies sit a little closer to our daily lives than for others. This evening, however, we each start with a blank slate. I find out a little bit about your tragedies, and you find out a bit about mine - but we will both find out more about who we are now. We are more than our personal griefs, you know." He glanced over and saw her looking at him with wide eyes and shrugged. "Hey, I'm a shrink, remember? If I can't cut loose with some psychological gobbledy-gook every once in a while, who can?"  
  
Another glance at the passenger side of the car found the passenger now smiling softly in amusement. "That's better," he commented with a smile of his own as he guided his car into the parking lot of the local steak house and slipped into a space near the entrance. "You're smiling again."  
  
She turned her dark eyes on the man behind the steering wheel, touched that he seemed to care about her happiness. "Its hard not to, when you're working so hard to make this an enjoyable evening," she responded softly. "It's been a long time since anyone has gone this far out of their way to make me happy."  
  
The two of them climbed from the car, and Sydney extended his elbow for her to hold onto as they walked up to the entrance together. Once he felt her soft touch accept his proffered arm, he placed his other hand over hers gently. "That is everybody else's loss, then," he stated in soto voce and then used that hand to reach out for the door handle.  
  
"Well, well, what do we have here?" an insolent voice drawled from behind the couple.  
  
Sydney could feel Miriam's start through her captured hand, and then felt her shrink almost against him as she half-turned at the sound of the voice with a sigh. "Carl, please..."  
  
Sydney turned with Miriam to face the unkempt and skeletal man who had come up behind them. "Excuse us," the psychiatrist said in a quiet voice, "we're not bothering you. Please leave us be."  
  
"Hooo-hooooo!" the walking skeleton responded in an exaggerated manner that evidenced his intoxication, and Sydney could now smell the whiskey on the man's breath. "Hey, Mir - got yersel' a fancy dude, eh?"  
  
Sydney turned his back on the man and leaned toward Miriam. "Go on in," he directed gently. "The proprietors here won't allow that man to follow us in." He grasped the door and pulled it open quickly, but the drunk had reached out as well and caught Miriam's elbow and jerked her hand from Sydney's keeping.   
  
"Let go of me, Carl," Miriam said firmly, trying to pull her arm from the drunk's custody.  
  
"You don't need none o' them dudes, Mir," Carl slurred as he tried to pull the woman closer to him. "You know that..."  
  
Sydney caught at the hand Miriam had extended out to him in an attempt to pull herself free. "Do you know this man?" he asked her incredulously.  
  
"What!" the drunk laughed unpleasantly. "You didn't tell him..."  
  
Miriam gave a gigantic jerk and freed herself from Carl's grasp and allowed herself to be pulled quickly and surely into Sydney's protective embrace. "Yes," she said in a very disgruntled voice. "I know him. This is my ex-husband." She leaned toward the drunk angrily. "Emphasis on the EX, Carl."  
  
The maitre'd poked his head out through the entrance, having been drawn by the sound of raised voices. "Are you folks having problems out here?"   
  
"Butt out, monkey-suit," Carl began belligerently.  
  
"Indeed," Sydney interrupted him, no longer even attempting to be polite or hide his frustration. He pointed at Carl and addressed himself to the restaurant employee. "I'd be grateful for your help here. This man is harrassing my companion and myself, and preventing us from enjoying our meal." He looked down at the woman he now held close. "Are you alright?" She nodded against him, looking out at her assailant with wide, frustrated eyes.  
  
The maitre'd stepped through the entrance and proceeded to place his taller, well-muscled body between the couple and the drunk. "OK. Move it along, buddy," he directed in a no-nonsense tone, "before I call the police on you and have you arrested for trespassing." He placed one strong arm on the drunk's shoulder and grabbed his grimy shirt collar with the other and physically heisted the drunk down the restaurant walkway and back to the public street. "And don't let me catch you hassling my customers later," the bigger man threatened in a tone that had turned dangerous when Carl whirled unsteadily and seemed to be considering lunging at the maitre'd after all.  
  
Meanwhile Sydney had quickly ushered Miriam through the doors of the restaurant the moment the maitre'd had taken charge of the situation, not letting go of her until the doors had closed completely behind them and they were out of sight from anybody standing outside. "Are you sure you're OK?" he asked solicitously.  
  
"I'm sorry that had to happen, Sydney," Miriam replied in a thoroughly defeated tone. "You didn't need to see that..." She couldn't bring herself to face him. "I'll understand if you'd rather we just not..."  
  
"You know, never, in all my life, have I ever met a woman more determined to convince me NOT to be interested in her - even as I escort her into a restaurant for dinner." Sydney sighed in mild frustration, then reached out and lifted Miriam's face with a gently finger beneath her chin. "Considering what I just witnessed, however, I have a sneaky suspicion that most of that comes from a certain somebody having convinced you that you have no right to happiness - if not with him, that is. Am I right?"  
  
"Sydney..." she began hesitantly, only to hush when a finger landed against her lips.  
  
"Am I right?" he asked in a low voice.  
  
Finally, reluctantly, she nodded. "In many ways, yes."  
  
"Then I want you to consider this fair warning," he responded, cupping a cheek in the palm of his hand. "You said before that I was an persistent man. Well, I intend to show you just how persistent a man I CAN be, when the need arises. Even if it's our destiny to be only good friends." The dark eyes raised at last to look into his, and for once the expression within those dark orbs was open and filled with hopeful longing.  
  
"I'd like to be at least friends," she said softly, putting a hand very gently against his chest.  
  
"Ahem..." the maitre'd cleared his throat behind them from the door. "Were you folks wanting a table for two?"  
  
With difficulty Sydney pulled his eyes from those bottomless pools of ebony. "Yes. Please. A quiet corner where we can have some privacy, if you can."  
  
"If you will follow me, please..." The black-suited man turned and began to wind his way through the tables.  
  
Sydney put out a hand and threaded his fingers among hers when she put her hand in his without hesitation. "Come on, then," he said gently and, together, they followed the maitre'd.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Thank you for a lovely evening," Miriam said softly as Sydney pulled his car to a halt in front of the lighted gates of her apartment complex.   
  
Sydney put the vehicle in park, turned off the motor and turned to gaze at his passenger. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he replied with a smile, reaching for a hand that no longer seemed too shy to stay in his for very long. "And despite a rocky start to the evening, I want you to know that I enjoyed myself immensely. Thank you for coming with me."  
  
He climbed from behind the wheel, walked briskly around the front of the car and gallantly opened her door for her and handed her out. Then, tucking her hand comfortably into the crook of his elbow again, he escorted her up the walk to the gate. Once inside the gate, however, he tugged at her hand to slow down rather than walk slowly toward the door of her apartment.   
  
"I would like to see you again," he announced gently, pulling her over to a semi-secluded and vine-sheltered alcove near the gate where they could talk without being seen or overheard.   
  
"I'd like that too," she answered, letting him draw her closer in the darkness. "I haven't enjoyed an evening - or the company - this much in a very long time. I wish the evening didn't have to end."  
  
Indeed, the evening had been thoroughly enjoyable for the both of them. As Sydney had predicted, and spurred on by the near disaster in front of the restaurant, each had let the other in on their respective private tragedies. Then, once those were disposed of, the topic of conversation had varied greatly, from exploring her music to discussing his psychological research into twins. He had shown both interest and knowledge about music of a classical aficionado, and she had demonstrated that having stopped formal schooling and having worked to support first herself and a daughter and then herself and an invalid mother had not stopped her interest in educating herself. Their conversation had been both animated and intelligent.  
  
Sydney couldn't believe that he hadn't discovered Miriam long before this, and he counted himself lucky to have found her even now. Once tucked into the quiet corner of the restaurant, he had indeed satisfied his whim to feast his eyes endlessly on her casual and mature grace and beauty even as he explored her mind, which could run like quicksilver from topic to topic without confusion. He found himself quickly trying to remember Centre policy on fraternization between employees in different departments to make sure nothing would stand in his way of pursuing a friendly relationship that might - just might - become more than that. He couldn't remember anything specific, and in a fit of impulsiveness decided not to worry about it until or unless it became a problem.  
  
For her part, Miriam had been utterly charmed by the continental charm that seemed to be the defining factor of Sydney's nature. He had been open and forthright when questioned about his own family, not shying away from the tragedy of concentration camps or the recent death of his brother. In turn, and since he had already met Carl, there was no reason to shy away from her husband's liability in their daughter's death - or the way in which not even a divorce had protected her from his drunken excesses until her mother had gotten ill.   
  
As the conversation had moved to less painful topics, she had found herself thoroughly fascinated by the mixture of poet, philosopher and scientist that he'd shown himself to be. Never in all her years had she considered that such an accomplished man would look in her direction, much less be in the least bit interested in anything she had to say. And yet Sydney had seemed to appreciate her love for music and love for her instrument in much the same way her mother did, and let her know that he hoped one day to hear her play even as he enthralled her with the details of his own psychological research. In a fit of insecurity, she wondered if there was any policy at the Centre that would prevent her from seeing this intriguing and captivating man again, and decided that until or unless the matter were mentioned by her supervisor, it would be none of anybody else's business.  
  
Now, standing in the dark and secluded leafy alcove of her apartment complex with this gentle and considerate man, she found herself feeling very much like the schoolgirl she once had been. She was both excited by his very closeness and almost frightened by the strength of her own physical response to him so soon into their relationship. She had left her hand in his keeping, having come over the course of the evening to enjoy the sensation of his touch; and now his grasp on her fingers had grown warm as his gentle tugging brought their bodies to brush against each other softly.  
  
Sydney felt her move willingly toward him with his slightest touch, and his pulse jumped and raced in triumph. It had been a very long time since he'd felt so affected by the proximity of a beautiful woman, and even longer since such a woman had apparently felt the same way about him. With a nervousness that again recalled the callowness of youth to him, he reached up a gentle hand and caressed her soft cheek with the backs of his fingers while his other hand carefully found her waist to bring her closer still. The sensation of drawing her, pliant and willing, into his arms was a heady intoxicant. He had dreamed of holding her in his arms this way all evening - indeed, he'd dreamed of holding her many times during their cautious acquaintance otherwise; having the dream now become reality was pleasure beyond imagination.  
  
Miriam smiled at the very gentle, non-threatening, advances he was taking and put her hands at his waist and let them slide slowly to circle his back loosely in encouragement as he drew her closer still. Then, bending, he brushed his lips against hers very softly -almost as if by accident. The rush of her pulse at this shy, tender kiss was unlike anything she'd experienced. She felt him pull back and then hesitate there, pausing as if giving her a chance and permission to prevent him from attempting the same again. Instead, she stretched up a bit so her lips could softly find first his neck and then his lips as they came down seeking hers again more insistently at her touch.   
  
The hand at her waist slid all the way around her back and pulled her even tighter to him as the kiss quickly deepened from a gentle exploring to something far more intense. His fingers at her face impulsively curled around her neck and then tangled themselves with abandon in the tumbling curls as the kiss deepened. At his back, her arms tightened around him and held him to her as well, one hand finally smoothing up until she caught at his shoulder as her own excitement grew. It was the lack of oxygen, then, that forced them to end the kiss. They stared at each other, breathless and almost surprised, for a short time.  
  
Then Sydney's other arm slid around her and encircled her completely, pulling her as close into his embrace as he could as he dropped a gentle kiss first to a cheek, and then to an earlobe. "You know, if I don't let you go now," he rumbled into that ear in a low voice with lips that teased the nerve endings of her earlobe and thrilled her to her toes, "I may not be able to let you go at all."  
  
"I don't know that I want you to let me go," Miriam whispered back at him almost hoarsely. She retrieved her arms from around his back and wound them up and around his neck and pulled him down toward her as he bent quickly and kissed her again deeply this time, responding to him fully at last. With two hearts pounding hard in sympathetic rhythm, and two bodies pressed together so tightly that there was no doubt in either mind as to the degree of passionate response of each to the other, the kiss lasted longer than either had ever imagined. Again, only the lack of oxygen obliged them finally, reluctantly, to part.   
  
This time, however, Sydney didn't hesitate. He began to rain hot kisses down the column of her neck and then kissed his way back up to nibble provocatively on her earlobe again. He thrilled in every fiber of his being when he heard her very first, very soft moan of pleasure at his caresses, having to fight the urge to sweep her off her feet right then and there and carry her off. Instead, he buried his nose in her fragrant hair and pulled her as close as he could, letting their mutual excitement calm down a little in a tight embrace. "I don't want to let you go," he breathed heavily into her ear, "but I don't want to rush things either." He loosened his grip on her and put hands on both sides of her face so that he could look at her directly. "God help me, I want you more than I've wanted any woman in a very long time," he admitted with honesty and feeling, "but I want things between us to be right and good first, so that whatever is to be between us will last beyond just the moment."  
  
Miriam pulled one hand down from around his neck and stroked his face gently before tangling her fingers once more in the hair at the nape of his neck provocatively. "You are the first man in my whole life that has ever cared as much or more about what might be than of instant satisfaction of urges," she whispered softly in amazement. A tear fell from one dark eye to her cheek, sparkling as it passed through a swatch of dappled moonlight. "I swear, Sydney, you've made me feel more pretty and wanted in these past few hours than I've ever felt in my life. And God help ME, because if you asked me to be with you tonight, I wouldn't be able to tell you 'no'." She closed her eyes as she felt his hand at the side of her face stroke her cheek tenderly again, wiping away the errant tear. She turned her head to kiss the fingers. "I want you too, Sydney, more than you'll ever know. But for once in my life, and maybe because it IS you, I want more than just one night or just a fling."  
  
"Have dinner with me tomorrow night," he exclaimed as he pulled her close to his heart again. "Let me be with you again tomorrow for a little while, at least."  
  
"Yes, please," she answered quietly, snuggling into his arms as if she'd always known she had a place there and feeling him fold his embrace - his entire posture - around her protectively like a blanket in response. "You'll follow me home after work, like tonight?"  
  
"I would follow you anywhere," he remarked warmly, shamelessly savoring the feel of her body still pressed tightly against his and breathing in the scent of her hair and her summer flowers perfume. He got the feeling that his life was suddenly standing at a crossroads, with a change of direction definitely in the wind. This was contentment - complete and fulfilling.  
  
"Will you see me to my door?" she asked with a contented and throaty voice that excited him even more than before.  
  
He bent to capture her lips in a tender and gentle kiss that hummed with well-restrained passion on both parts. "Just try and stop me," he replied with a smile. He let go his tight hold on her and just stood with his arms looped about her waist. "Do you suppose your mother's still up?"  
  
"No doubt she's waiting for my full report," Miriam chuckled, leaning into him and warmed by the knowledge that she could do such a thing freely. "I'll have to try to figure out how much to tell her."  
  
Sydney joined in the chuckle. Then, with Miriam tucked in close under his arm and feeling her wrap an arm tightly around his waist in response, he began once more sauntering in the direction of her apartment door. "Let me know what you decide when I see you at work tomorrow evening," he suggested after thinking it through. "I'll need to know what I might be facing tomorrow evening when I stop by."  
  
He turned her in his arms as they arrived on her threshold and gazed down into her dark, intelligent eyes to lose himself in the ebony depths. Unable to resist the temptation to touch her and hold her again, his hands came up and framed her face gently between his palms. "Where have you been hiding all this time?"  
  
"Down in clerical," she quipped with a sly smile, "with the rest of the mere mortals."  
  
"I never thought I'd be so thankful for that stupid mail drop cart," he responded, letting the smile on his face grow serious. He bent once more and kissed her lips gently. "Good night, my Miriam. Sleep well."  
  
Miriam's pulse raced once more at the gentle possessive he'd used so automatically, amazed at how cared for and secure that simple statement had made her. She didn't even stop to consider not returning the sentiment in full measure. "Good night, my Sydney," she responded, claiming him back in a vibrant contralto, then reached up once more to stroke the side of his face and then run soft, gentle fingertips across his mouth to trace the outline of his lips in an incredibly sensual caress.   
  
He closed his eyes and kissed the fingers before they moved away, knowing once more the strong urge to catch her up in his arms and carry her off into the night. He took a deep breath and then stepped back quickly, retaining tenuous hold of just one hand finally. "Go in now, before I decide I can't be without you after all," he said in a voice low and vibrating with want and feeling.  
  
She slowly and reluctantly pulled free of his grasp and then obeyed him, drawing out her key and unlocking the front door under his watchful guard. "Good night," she repeated, then softly closed the door behind her.  
  
Sydney stared at the closed door of the apartment for a moment, his arms feeling suddenly empty and cold without her in them. For a third time in very short order he was struck by an almost overwhelming temptation to knock on that door and demand that she come home with him anyway, to hell with the repercussions - but again he brutally forced himself to patience. Miriam was too fine a woman and this budding relationship between them too new and full of potential to risk ruining with impetuousness. Instead, he turned away and walked toward the entrance gate of the complex before he could be tempted again - forcing himself to walk away in order not to face a fourth internal battle that he wasn't sure he could withstand.   
  
His step down the narrow sidewalk had a spring to it that it hadn't had in a very long time, however. As he pressed on the key to unlock his car and walked around the front to the driver's door, he couldn't resist reliving again the sensation of holding her soft body close to his. He sat behind the wheel with eyes closed as he recalled that most passionate of kisses, feeling his blood sing and heart beat heavily in his chest just remembering the taste of her, the feel of her body responding to his. He sighed recalling the amazing sensuality of her tracing the outline of his lips with her fingertips.   
  
Sydney took a deep breath to calm himself again and started the car. Blue Cove was a small, sparsely settled hamlet, so he didn't have too far to drive to reach his home; but he still had no intention of having any kind of accident that would prevent him from seeing his Miriam again tomorrow.   
  
There - he caught himself - he'd done it again: HIS Miriam. Suddenly he sympathized with Carl, for he knew what it was to feel protective and possessive about this gentle, fascinating woman. As he pulled his car to a stop in his garage, he suddenly grinned like a madman in remembering that she had called him hers too - and the idea that she could feel as possessive of him as he did of her was like a shot of adrenaline.  
  
Suddenly the next twenty-some hours of his life - an entire working day - seemed like an eternity to be borne resolutely and hopefully. But he knew he could dream tonight and relive the soft touch of fingertips sensuously tracing the contours of his lips and the heady scent of fresh flowers on a summer's day, knowing that at the end of those twenty-some hours, they would be his again.   
  
He could hardly wait.  
  
  
Feedback please: mbumpus_99@hotmail.com 


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